


a lingering soul

by fallenhurricane



Series: Malec Playlist [10]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Coda, I don't know okay i'm sorry, M/M, Sad Alec Lightwood, kind of?, no beta we die like men, this is uhhh after Magnus goes to Edom and Alec is emotional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:33:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25001704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenhurricane/pseuds/fallenhurricane
Summary: Home was a warm hand that ran over his shoulders and cupped his cheek gently. Home was a soft voice, teasing and kind. Home was eyes that flickered from deep brown to bright gold, each beautiful and full of love. Home was love.And now. Now it had been two weeks since his home had been stripped from him.OR: It's been two weeks since Magnus went through the rift to Edom.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: Malec Playlist [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757935
Comments: 6
Kudos: 49





	a lingering soul

This house has never been the same as before  
It's never felt warm, never felt warm

-The Paper Kites, "Paint"

For 23 years, Alec thought something was wrong with him. 

It wasn’t that he liked guys. His sexuality aside (because while he knew that the Shadowhunter world would never fully accept that aspect of him), something else felt innately _wrong_. He’d felt out of place for as long as he could remember, even inside the Institute, even inside the only home he’d ever known. It was like a piece of his very soul was missing.

Izzy had always strutted the halls like she owned them. When Jace arrived, he was scared and shy, but even he seemed to fit in better than Alec did. The only thing that ever felt right to Alec was the bow clenched in his fist and the quiver slung over his shoulder. 

For 23 years, he felt out of place. It had been 23 years until he found his true home, something -- no, some _one_ \-- who made him feel whole, special, enough. Even when his bow and quiver were leaning against the wall. Even when his stele was on the bedside table and he wasn’t in parade rest or tensed with the expectation of battle. Even when he was bruised and scarred from a long fight with a demon. 

Home was a warm hand that ran over his shoulders and cupped his cheek gently. Home was a soft voice, teasing and kind. Home was eyes that flickered from deep brown to bright gold, each beautiful and full of love. Home was a man that he fell asleep and woke up next to, limbs tangled together. Home was shared coffee in the morning and dinner dates on the balcony. Home was love.

And now. Now it had been two weeks since his home had been stripped from him. 

Two weeks since the battle, since Idris devolved into chaos, since flames licked Alec’s calves as he nocked arrow after arrow and shot them into the darkness. Two weeks since Magnus had disappeared into the rift. 

Alec knew his boyfriend -- no, fiancé, they were _engaged_ \-- wasn’t dead; not in the traditional sense, anyway. He was still alive but a realm away, in fucking _Edom_. And Alec had no earthly idea how to get him back. 

The two weeks had been fraught. 

Alec’s bed at the Institute felt stifling, but the loft overwhelmed him in every sense of the word. It looked like Magnus, it smelled like Magnus, it _felt_ like Magnus, from the wards that wrapped around him every time he walked in the door to the golden silk sheets that lay tousled on their bed. There was an unfinished glass of whiskey on the end table; Magnus must have been drinking it before portaling to Idris. His slippers sat untouched by the front door, and his towel and robe hung in their usual places in the bathroom. Alec couldn’t bring himself to move anything, to even touch anything, the few times that he visited. It was like he was on the edge of a cliff and if his fingers brushed the silk of Magnus’s pillow case, or the wool of his slippers, he might topple over the edge.

He avoided the loft as much as he could, but the Institute wasn’t much better. Every turn held a memory of his dear warlock, from the mess hall where Magnus had grumbled about the early hour and the unpleasant food to the training room where Alec could only remember wrestling on the floor, and then… well. His own room was no better.

The worst part, maybe, was that Magnus was alive. Alec _knew_ it. He could feel it, as surely as he could feel Jace’s steady presence through their parabatai bond. This was a different kind of surety, but it was there. His heart was broken, but it wasn’t shattered the way it would be if Magnus was well and truly gone for good. But Alec had no fucking clue how to get him back. 

And Alec hated being helpless.

Maryse told him he needed to move on. That he needed to take some personal days, allow himself to grieve, and then get back to work ready to continue. But while Maryse may have loved Robert once -- and in Alec’s mind, that’s a very strong _may_ \-- he knew that their love was different than what he had with Magnus. They would give up anything for each other. Magic, immortality, their jobs, their very lives--

It’s then that he got the idea. 

Alec rose from his desk, fingers tapping away on his phone, asking Jace, Clary, Simon, and Izzy to meet him in the Ops center. 

He was going to Edom.

  
  



End file.
